Mercy & Fire

16. Weeds and Flowers

Rovan

Acidic, corrosive ardor seeped through me, threatening to burn through the walls of my flesh. It was a familiar burn. I felt it when my mother's last client raised his hand at her, and I felt it when the queen called Evelyn a nobody. I didn't know then that I would prefer the queen to think of her and my mother that way. Just like I preferred she would think Roselena was a nobody now.

I wish Roselena was another flower in the garden that the queen would ignore, but I suspected that she saw her as a weed wrapping around the dying bud she'd been so obsessed with for the past few years. Me.

But Roselena wasn't a parasitic weed at all. It was quite the opposite, in fact. I was the one leeching the life out of her for my own selfish relief from choices I had made.

At the time I didn't know that the familiars preyed on the men of my bloodline because of a pact my ancestor made with them. In exchange for using the body as a host, they left their power open and free for the host to use. However, what my ancestor didn't count on was the fact that the familiars could form agreements with other beings as well. Mine just so happened to have an agreement with the Queen, leaving me at her mercy.

Everything I did and physically said would be broadcasted for the queen to see. The only thing I had for myself was my mind. And even then, they were able to decipher words and phrases from me. But there was no stipulation in the written agreement the queen had shown me that said she had any right to my thoughts, and I held onto that.

Of course, I'd looked for a way to break the pact, but I always came up empty handed and disappointed. Now this pact would chase down my progeny if I had any, which I didn't plan to. I would never wish this on anybody, let alone my own children. Whatever hopes that damned wench had of controlling my bloodline would die with me.

Her insertion of Roselena into the conversation of bearing children was just a way to test me, and I responded with surface truths. Barely palatable was the closest thing I'd said to a lie, but the rest was true. People of high society, especially royalty, always procreated with other persons of high status. Otherwise, the child was illegitimate.

The queen took a tour of the room as she continued the exhausting conversation, "I think you really hurt her feelings, you know? But you're right, how can a King step down from his station and extend a hand to a lowly maid?"

A scoff rose in my chest, but I held it down. She said those things to put Roselena in her place, as if Roselena wasn't aware of that. She was an intelligent and adaptable woman. She never acted beyond her station, and even when I may have crossed a line, she keeps to herself well. Sometimes she did seem like a shivering rabbit, barely keeping it together, but that only made her reactions all the more entertaining.

Then it clicked. She wasn't putting Roselena in her place. No, it was meant to put me in my place, and Roselena took the brunt of it.

I didn't say anything and stood stiff as a board by the door, anything to keep me as close to Roselena. She was the only thing silencing my familiars and keeping my head clear at the moment, and I needed that in order to deal with the woman standing before me.

"Now, I can't help but wonder why she is always around you?" She asked.

"She's my personal attendant." I answered immediately.

She narrowed her eyes at me, "I don't understand why it has to be her."

"Why can't it be her?" I was genuinely perturbed by the question.

She narrowed her eyes at me, stepping closer until she made eye contact with me. She seems to focus until she seemed to give up and walk toward the bed.

She sat down, leaning on her hand, trying to seem alluring.

"I'm preparing a list of marriage candidates for you. I even sent inquiries to other kingdoms asking if they had any princesses or ducal heirs to spare." She tilted her head. "Any of them will do, yes?"

I kept my facial expression level, "Why must I produce an heir?"

Her pupils dilated, "You won't live forever, my dear. They'll take your place as my little puppets."

Again, that red, hot ardor burned in my blood, threatening to boil and overflow until I had no control over myself. The only things keeping me tethered to my sanity were the three women standing obliviously in this castle. They were the only reason I wouldn't act on my hatred for this woman.

She clicked her tongue, changing the subject. "We'll celebrate tonight at the ball. And coronate you in the morning."

She smiled at me, "And thank you for bringing tomorrow's sacrifice with you last night. You truly think of everything."

I frowned in confusion as she fanned herself with her hand.

"I don't know where you found that baby boy, but he is quite fit for the role, no?"

My face drained of color, and no matter how much I willed my body to act. To move. To do something – anything, I couldn't. Instead of boiling over, the acidic ardor coagulated in my blood, immobilizing me from the inside out. This was her form of punishing me. Of showing me that nothing I did would ever be a secret to her. That I was as she said – her puppet.

She watched my reaction and burst into laughter, "I jest, my dear."

She pushed up off of the bed and came to stand in front of me. Her hand reached up as she cupped my cheek and brushed her thumb over my cheekbone. If anyone walked in, they would simply think this was an intimate act of affection. But we both knew this was her yanking on the collar of her hunting dog, reminding it of its owner.

She pouted her lips and spoke in a similarly pouty way as if she sympathized with me.

"Get that girl out of your proximity. Make her a cleaning maid, a gardener, a cook... I don't give a rat's ass what you do with her. If I get even one whisper that she is still close to you, you'll only have three chances left. Once I kill her, you can still save the baby, your mother, and your sister."

My jaw clenched and my nostrils flared.

She shook her head, "Now, don't get mad at me, dear. We all like our pets, but again, she is just that, a pet."

I remained silent as she dismissed me like a child. I shut the door, willing myself to ignore Roselena as I should have from the beginning. The minute I was out of her sight, I turned and punched the wall, not using any of my magic to prevent damage. Satisfying pain coursed through my veins as I looked between my busted, split knuckles and the crack on the wall.

I made a decision then and there. One I'd been ignoring and dragging on for a while because of my fear of being completely and utterly alone in this forsaken world. I needed to set my plan of having my sister and mother escape with that baby. This plan required mastering the art of writing legibly with my eyes closed and coordinating with Joaquim in secret.

Of course, sending away my sister and mother meant I couldn't know where they were being sent, and it also meant I couldn't see them ever again. My heart ached at the thought, but I'd been selfish long enough. I would not let them die.

Then Roselena's innocent, solemn face flitted into my mind. Guilt and regret dripped into my gut, but I couldn't seem to approach the idea of letting her go. Eventually I would, but... the inexplicable need to have her close was hard to ignore. The relief her presence poured over my body and mind when she was near was too good to let go.

Still, guilt tore into me. If I made one wrong move, she was done for. If I had her close, she would die, and I would drown in my insanity anyway. If I kept her at a distance, I still drowned in my own familiar-induced insanity.

If I was destined to die of insanity either way, why should I drag her down with me?